Before I can get my vegetables planted I have to get rid of what is already in the ground. This is no bad thing. The purple sprouting I put in last autumn is now past knee height and each plant, anchored with a stout stick, has sent up a mass of tight heads that have been the star vegetable this spring. Except that this year my sprouting isn't purple at all – it is white.

I planted white sprouting partly because it is not easy to get in the shops, but also at the recommendation of a reader who had great success with it and wanted to pass it on. He thought it might be interesting to compare it with my usual favourite spring vegetable. Yes, it is beautiful: like a dozen or more tiny, slim cauliflowers attached to every plant, each one held in a tight curl of protective pale-green leaves. And it is prolific, too – probably more so than the purple variety. I found it neither as capricious nor as tender as I had been warned. The leggy plants have stood tall and true through a decently cold and snowy winter and the leaves are a beautiful blue-green, like the sea on a February day.

The real difference comes in the cooking. Even more fragile than its mauve-tipped namesake, white sprouting needs to be in the pot for an even shorter time. Beware of its fragility when you are putting the ivory stalks on the plate: they need a respectful hand. The flavour is, if it is any different at all, slightly more subtle and less cabbagey than its mauve sister. If you can catch the florets before they overcook – and you might not if you are distracted for even a few seconds – you will be rewarded with a vegetable that exudes gentle charm. Not something you can say of many members of the brassica family. And of course the recipes are not only interchangeable with the usual stuff but with the easily accessible bunches of green calabrese (broccoli), too.

I like the way that sprouting, whatever its hue, has been elevated to a higher status over the past few years. I have always felt it deserved the same treatment as asparagus, and it does indeed respond to the same careful cooking processes and the same sauces. Hollandaise, the orange-flecked Maltaise and the more simple notes of melted butter and lemon juice work well with any of these spring greens. The heads also love to be scattered with toasted breadcrumbs and unfashionable shavings of Parmesan.

If you shop with an eye to local produce you can tell what time of year it is simply by looking at what is available. Regulars at the farmers' markets can probably work out which week it is simply by the varieties of fruits around. (Something I can probably do in summer and autumn, but am much less likely to do at this time of year.) I usually enjoy this feeling of being in the here and now. Yet "now" can seem a bit of a struggle at this point in the year. Yes, spring is all guns blazing in many ways, but on the food front it is hardly different from six weeks ago.

But the good times are coming and I am more impatient than ever this year. Two days of sunshine and I am looking round in vain for home-grown tomatoes. But things are stirring, most certainly. Time to get those seeds in.

FRIED SPROUTING, WITH CARROT DRESSING

A batter so light you can see through it and a sharp, pungent dressing perks up purple or white sprouting, or indeed any of the spring greens you fancy. I might try this with asparagus when the price comes down.

Serves 4

For the batter:

100g plain flour

2 tbsp sunflower oil

175ml sparkling mineral water

1 tbsp of caster sugar

1 egg white

oil for deep frying

For the carrot dressing:

3 tbsp white wine vinegar

2 level tbsp caster sugar

2 tbsp water

2 smallish carrots

2 cloves of garlic

1 hot red chilli

2 tbsp chopped coriander leaves

DIRECTIONS

Fried in a light batter, sprouting broccoli served with a tangy carrot dressing. Photograph: Jonathan Lovekin

To make the dressing, combine the vinegar, sugar, water and a pinch of salt and bring to the boil in a small saucepan. Remove from the heat as soon as the sugar has dissolved. Allow to cool.

Peel the carrots and cut into long, hair-like shreds. Peel and crush the garlic. Finely chop the chilli without removing the seeds. Stir the carrots and garlic into the syrup together with the chopped chilli and coriander leaves.

To make the fritters, sift the flour into a basin, add the oil and water, beating slowly to a thick paste, then stir in the sugar. Set aside for 30 minutes. Don't be tempted to skip the resting time: this is essential for a light batter. Just before you plan to fry the sprouting, beat the egg white and fold gently into the batter.

Break the sprouting into large florets and rinse. Dry on kitchen paper. Put the oil on to warm in a deep saucepan. Test the oil to make sure it is hot enough - it should send a cube of bread golden in seconds - then dip the sprouting into the batter and then lower the florets into the hot oil. Push them down, holding them under the oil with a draining spoon.

The fritters are done when the batter is pale gold. Eat hot and fresh from the pan with the vinegar dip.

STEAMED SPROUTING, WITH ORANGE ZEST AND PARSLEY SAUCE

The thinner the stalk, the less cooking time the bunches take. I steam purple sprouting for 4 minutes, white for 3 and the thicker-stemmed calabrese broccoli for about 5, depending on the size of the florets.

Put the egg yolks into a heatproof glass or china bowl. Place the bowl over a pan of simmering water. The bowl should snugly fit the pan without the water touching the bottom. Add the melted butter a little at a time as if you were making mayonnaise, beating all the time with a balloon whisk. Squeeze in a few drops of lemon juice and add a little salt.

Stir in the grated orange zest, crème fraîche and the chopped parsley. Turn off the heat, beating the sauce briefly every now and again to stop it separating.

Bring a pan of water to the boil. Put the sprouting into a steamer basket, or a colander. As the water boils, place the sprouting over the top and cover tightly with a lid.

Steam until tender to the point of a knife – a matter of 4 or 5 minutes depending on the heat you have harnessed with your steamer, but check regularly.

Remove from the heat, tip on to a warm serving dish (remember all the broccoli family goes cold quickly) and pour over the orange and parsley sauce.